Chasing The Dragon
by CharlieWritesDrabbles
Summary: Eric Cartman is in no way the same boy that grew up on those snowy streets. The one who knows this best is Kenny. Anything to get his next fix, the McCormick boy finds himself in an all too familiar position. Rated M for drugs, sex, etc.


The bassline was the only thing that came through the wall, promises of sweat coated dancers and water down booze seeping from the cracks in the door frame. Huddling further in to his dirty orange jacket, Kenny's bloodshot eyes drooped and shot wide; over and over again. Trembling hands were pushed deep in to grubby pockets, long dirtied with lint, wrappers and other trashed items. _That asshole is late, he's always fucking late. God damnit! _The thought came with such clarity, the blond boy physically jumped. It wasn't often his musings would actually make sense. It showed he was too long for the fix.

Cursing continually under his breath, a foul string of profanities that turned the air blue, Kenny stopped abruptly when the door was pushed open. The smell of tobacco and sex poured out around a blurred figure. Stepping closer, Kenny recognised the sharp cuts and scent of Cartman's red, leather jacket. It took years and years of pestering, but the larger boy had finally caved when they were all on the peak of puberty. The 15 year old Eric had looked ridiculous, but the 25 year old Eric wore the coat as if it had always sat on his shoulders.

"Alright, you fuck?" the brunette smirked down at his shaking companion, and wasted no time in pulling a small bag from his pocket, "this what you're after?" At the sight of the white powder, Kenny practically drooled, the buzz already being imagined in his head. There was literally nothing he wouldn't do to get the bag in his own grasp. Pulling money from his pockets; crumpled notes and a few pieces of lint to coat it. His shaking hand stretched toward Eric in the usual accepted manner. That is, until he dared look his drug dealer in the eye and find the frown etched across his face.

Nothing made Cartman smile more than his pathetic little addicts handing him the sweet nectar of life. Money made his world go round, that was for certain, and it was all thanks to a myriad of pills, potions and powders that sat in the trunk of his car. Never touched anything stronger than mary jane, Cartman was the only dealer in the area who was reliable and always stocking quality. _So what could make him upset? _Kenny mused, pulling back his hand and taking in the stocky lads figure.

A growl, almost, slid past Eric's lips, and he motioned for Kenny to come closer. Once the McCormick lad was close enough, the brunette pulled him by the collar and whispered in his ear, "No money, this time, Ken doll," relief swept over the younger boy, until the voice continued, "I want you, instead." Swallowing hard, Kenny dropped to his knees. He would rather give the money, than do this. Regardless of what he would think normally, he'd do anything but this for the sweet hit of Charlie. It wasn't the first time, but Kenny remembered the first time as if it was an hour ago.

Unsteady hands unzipped tight blue jeans, the worn out fingers pulling at the belt loops and boxers; tugging them down until what waited underneath was fully presented to the unwilling junkie. _Make it quick, McCormick, _the blond whispered to himself, before lowering his head and taking the full length of Eric in his mouth. Hissing in immediate pleasure at the contact, Eric's hips bucked against Kenny's face. Gagging, tears streaming down his face already, the little devil boy pushed his mouth further, his head bobbing along at an irratic pace.

Noises from above of pleasure, mewls and moans of approval, almost made the task worth it. Of course, the little packet of powder would prove a better substitute than his current mouth occupant; but for now, he could feel his own jeans get tighter and his arousal growing. Focusing on the task at hand, he forced his arms to stay wrapped around the others' legs. The last time he'd let on how much he had enjoyed doing this once he got in to it, Eric had taken him, fully. He still hadn't recovered.

It was better to take the drugs, and relieve himself once Eric was out of sight. One final, gutteral moan yelped over the clubs music, and Kenny found himself swallowing the first white substance he'd consume tonight. "Good boy, good boy," the sound of a zip being done up, and a packet being thrown in his waiting hands, came through the smog of lust and withdrawal.


End file.
